


Another time, another elevator

by imsfire



Series: Rogue One Anniversary prompts [8]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: (different elevator), F/M, Jyn and Cassian are undercover, POV of the OC, Post-Battle of Scarif, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Young Love, and are surprised by a firework display, and kissing for the cover, because they never got to have a kiss in canon, elevator scene, prompt day seven: Free day, so now they're undercover as a newly-engaged couple, written for the Rogue One First Anniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: They were a good-looking couple.  He was military; neat dark hair and moustache, immaculate uniform with a lieutenant’s tabs; she was definitely a civilian, and dressed for out-and-out glamour, all ivory floaty stuff and pearls in her chestnut hair, and rose-stained lips.  The young man kept looking at those lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe someone so luscious had kissed him.





	Another time, another elevator

Digach Hart was almost at the end of his shift, thank the stars.  The Ambassador’s Ball had produced the usual crop of fools, bullies and time-wasters; and drunks, of course.  Loud drunks, jokey drunks, flirty drunks, groping drunks.  Rude drunks, especially.  But they were VIPs, so that was inevitable; some VIPs were animals. 

The military high-ups were the best, much though it pained him to admit it; cold but polite, and as a rule they were scrupulously fair when they tipped.  But as for important civilians these days, some of them saw a young man in a bell-boy’s uniform as nothing more than a walking target. 

He sighed as the buzzer sounded for yet another pick-up from the 35th floor; straightened his cap and sent his elevator soaring up the exterior of the shining tower to meet his next client.

They might be okay.  Jokey drunks tended to tip well, he reminded himself.  Loud drunks would if they were with someone they wanted to impress (and when were the loud not trying to impress somebody?).  Flirts either tipped nothing or were alarmingly generous; gropers and the rude, never a penny.  But he’d had a good number of Admirals’ Aides-de-camp and Senior Attachés so far tonight, enough to have made a decent top-up on his wages for the shift.  This next call might be more of the same, even though it was getting late enough that the more civil of the guests would have left by now.  It was almost second hour at night; the end of his stint.  Once Hofdix got here he’d be off home.

Floor 35.  Ambassadorial Residence, His Excellency Ambassador Teemul Lakka Metlef of Ghemuine.  The elevator door opened in the usual smooth silence, to a sparkling lobby and a young couple kissing and fondling one another enthusiastically while they waited.

Well, at least that made it unlikely that they’d try to kiss him.  Hart dropped his gaze courteously as he held the door, and waited for them to stop sucking one another’s faces long enough to notice him.  At around half a minute the woman said with a giggle “Darling, the elevator is here.”

“So it is.  You sure you want to go now?”  The man had a warm voice, rather husky and with a trace of an accent.  A loyal citizen from some mid-rim world, no doubt, making good by putting in 120% for every job he did, while those with paler skin and less accented Basic floated along on 75%.  His girlfriend by contrast sounded downright posh.  She also sounded tipsy; but she was happy, Hart saw as he glanced at her; she was giggling again, hanging onto her big beaded clutch, looking up into her boyfriend’s face as though she saw all her life’s blessings there.

“Yes, darling.  I want to celebrate!”

They stepped into the glass cage of the lift, the man enfolding the girl in his arms as she wobbled on a pair of crazily-high heels.

They were a good-looking couple.  He was military; neat dark hair and moustache, immaculate uniform with a lieutenant’s tabs; she was definitely a civilian, and dressed for out-and-out glamour, all ivory floaty stuff and pearls in her chestnut hair, and rose-stained lips.  The young man kept looking at those lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe someone so luscious had kissed him. 

Hart was assessing them surreptitiously as a one-night hitch-up when he noticed the ring on her marriage finger; bright platinum with a stone the size of a small moon.  Next moment she stood on tiptoe to kiss the Lieutenant again, and whispered audibly “Thank you.  Thank you for wanting me.  I’m so proud to be yours.  Papa would be so proud too.”

She was smiling and the young man was looking back at her with an equally idiotic beam.

Not a one night thing, then.  An engaged couple, and by the looks of it a fairly new engagement.  No wonder they were pressing close to one another again, interlacing their hands, making eyes and sweet faces, for all the world as if they’d just stolen the crown jewels of Naboo for one another.  Well, everyone falls in love, even soldiers and dizzy Imperial daughters.

Hart cleared his throat, barely, delicately.  “What floor, sir and madam?”

“Floater parking.  Thank you.”  The Lieutenant gave him a broad smile.  Maybe their happiness would make them generous…

“Main parking, floor 5, yes sir.  And – may I ask –“ this was chancing it a bit, but they looked so kriffing happy he just couldn’t imagine them taking a little friendly cheek amiss – “are congratulations in order, sir, madam?  I couldn’t help but notice the ring…”

The girl squeaked with delight and gave him another flash of that monster gem.  “Isn’t it _darling_?  And yes – Aach asked me at the party and I said yes!”

Hart keyed in the code for floor 5, saying respectfully “Many years of happiness, madam, sir.  Elevator going down.”

They were kissing again.  Young love.  He couldn’t begrudge young love.

Floor 29, floor 28…

The young woman leaned back in her fiancé’s arms, one hand with the clutch bag pressed against his back while the other reached up to stroke his hair.  “Dearest –“

There was a loud bang just outside the glass of the elevator, and a brilliant flash of green light.  Fireworks.  Really good ones, too, waves of colour scintillating across the night sky.  But the young couple both jumped like shell-shocked veterans.  Then the girl clung to the Lieutenant with an embarrassed laugh.  “How silly of me!  Please don’t laugh at me, dear.  It just took me back to –“

“Hush, it’s okay.  I know.”

They held one another for a moment, and their hands were tender now instead of grabby.  He suddenly felt intrusive. 

Floor 21, floor 20, floor 19…

The girl was looking round.  “You must think I’m so stupid to jump at a firework display like that,” she said.  Stars, was she talking to him?  Hart glanced her way, his eyes growing round with surprise.  She was.  She looked self-deprecatingly amused as she went on. “Aach and I had only just met, and we were in an elevator very like this one, and there was a – a terrorist attack, on a building close by, and we heard the explosion and saw – the blast –“ she giggled sheepishly as she looked up at her fiancé. “That bang just now, it - it reminded me of how scared I was then.”

“Ah, my darling, you’re so sensitive,” said Lieutenant Aach indulgently.

Floor 12, floor 11…

“I really thought I was going to die,” said the girl.

Aach gathered her in, eyes fixed on hers as he tipped her chin up.  “And you know I did too.  But all I remember is feeling so frustrated that I’d just met this wonderful woman and we were going to be murdered before I had the chance to do this.”  He bent his head and kissed her again, a long slow kiss on those smiling lips.

Floor 6.  Floor 5.  “Parking lot, sir and madam.  My congratulations again on your happy news, and may I wish you a safe journey home.”

They broke apart, the girl patting her clutch bag quickly.  Aach dug in his pockets and extracted a handful of coins.  He peered at Hart’s name badge.  “Yes, we’re off on our way home now.  Thank you, Digach.  And a good evening to you.”

“Goodnight, sir.  Thank you very much.”

He watched them as they strolled off into the floater parking, through the lines of smart, shining vehicles, with their arms around one another.

The tip was almost eleven credits.  Not bad.

Young love, eh?  Couldn’t fault it.

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know exactly what the mission was, but it involved stealing something small enough to go in Jyn's clutch bag, and then using "We are so in love we just want to go back to our hotel now" as an excuse to leave the party!


End file.
